Television Diseased and Award Madness: Flying Monkeys & Sideboobs

I have just completed 80 episodes of Dexter, 

the entire Sopranos series, all of HBO's Rome 

series, and the complete Deadwood series.  If 

you are what you watch, I am now an Italian 

cowboy that believes he's Julius Caesar killing 

bad guys and wrapping them in Saran Wrap.  I tote the dead bodies by my horse and buggy to my chariot that turns into a boat and row them out to sea where I drop them overboard 

while whistling Happy Trails.

My brain is gone.

This is interspersed with pre-season NFL action, Formula One Sports Car Racing, and my wife's addiction with America's Got Talent and Gator Boys.  So, in essence, I'm dreaming of tackling and being penalized for holding Heidi Klum while driving a sports car over Howard Stern, and loving Mel B as she dangles a screaming Howie Mandel as alligator bait 
just to see me smile.

I'm lost in a lost world.  

Where's the porn?

I wonder if the Wicked Witch of the West in the 

Wizard of Oz was into porn?  If so, is that what made her green?  She did live with flying monkeys.  Could she have been into bestiality?  Damn, didn't AIDS get started by sex with monkeys?  Could the Wicked Witch of the West have started that whole epidemic?  

Where's men of science when you need them?

That's right, they're still trying to figure out if too much TV can be bad for you.

My wife wants me to record the entire Sex In The City series from Showtime.  I'm afraid if I do, I'll end up in a divorce.  She'll come home some evening and there I'll be, waiting for the pill to kick in (while contemplating my bare naval) as four middle aged, hot chicks stand in the nude talking about past loves and extended battery life.  I remember the days when "getting a buzz" meant smoking a joint instead of sex toy noises.  How really good is that bunny?

Still, it has been a while since I've ... well, you know.

I remember a time when I enjoyed long, drawn out evenings of hot, passionate love making.  I guess I still do.  However, my new neighbors need to leave their curtains open just a little wider.  Not really a fun couple, if you know what I mean.

Yes, I've been watching newscasts about KGB ... er ... NSA spying techniques.  I figure if the government can get away with it, so can I.  Now, I just have to convince the local authorities of that.

When I was younger, I always wanted to be like either James Bond, or Napoleon Solo from the Man From U.N.C.L.E. television series.  (If you don't remember, U.N.C.L.E. stood for the United Network Command for Law and Enforcement.  I know, too much useless information!)  Both demonstrated that the life of a spy/secret agent was filled with excitement and beautiful women.

There are things I can't talk about or I may not be around any longer.

Either that, or you might not be.  Remember, NSA is watching!

I'll have to check to see if they're watching my neighbors have sex ... too!

Lizzi, from Considerings, bestowed upon me an award the other day.  I'm still not real clear on why I deserved this award, but it supposedly shows a woman's side boob.  Obviously, I couldn't resist displaying it here.

Considerings Award Presentation Post

Personally, I think it looks like a rear side head view of a lipstick wearing cat.  
But what do I know?

As Lizzi says, "This is an exclusive award of brazenness and hilarity, which will grow slowly (or not at all) and be valued by recipients everywhere as a symbol of their awesomeness."

I think Lizzi's been watching too many award shows.   

The rules state:
     1)  Be brazen enough to display it on your blog.
     2)  Nominate another blogger.

Simple enough!  

I have displayed the award, and in completing my task, nominate Michael John Mele at 

The Insane Asylum.

MJM does a tremendous job of hitting topics above and beyond the realm of the normal writer.  I won't even go into the topics he covers as you need a grand awakening to the realm he rules without challenge.   Don't delay.  Give him a chance ... it's almost as good as porn ... almost!    

So, I have now done my part.  A brazen boob is displaying a side boob award and has given it to an insane boob (not really but it was too good to pass up ... sorry, Michael).  I  now display the side boob with pride (or a PG-13 Rating by the Politically Correct Blog Association Assh**es of America).  

I think it's time for me to cool off.  Ice Road Truckers is on.  It's ice cubes in the bathtub and shrunken genitalia for sure.  The Titanic in the frozen North is only a tugboat.

Time to look at the side boob again 

and warm up!

(Is it really yours, Lizzi?)

Here kitty,kitty kitty!

Ten... No, Eleven Reasons I'm Not Going To FlogHer ... Er ... BlogHer

Most serious bloggers are taking their tails to BlogHer this week.

That should explain why 

I'm not going.

Plus, I still don't know if guys can go to BlogHer 
or not.

Is there such a thing as BlogHim?

Who knows?
Who cares?

Blog is complete.

Topic over.

Time for a nap.

Goodbye!

zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz

What, you want ten reasons?  You've got to be kidding!  Okay, well let's get this over with and give the real Ten reasons that I'm not attending this highlight event of the blogging world.

Support my tons and warm my buns,
you'll always be my tail's delight!

1)  I love my computer chair.  When I learned that the airlines wouldn't allow me to carry it aboard with me, my heart was crushed.  How could I leave my chair, my fall asleep while writing bed, my molded to butt cheeks ass warmer that holds me so close and dear?  What if I returned with all my new found knowledge and someone had broken into my house and stole my precious home of glut solitude?  No, I just couldn't take the chance.

2)  I wanted to save my wife embarrassment.  If I would have attended, my wife would have accompanied me (as supervisor of the ankle bracelet the authorities attached during the early 70's and never removed).  My wife knows nothing about computers.  She can't even get online by herself.  She would have suffered unbound embarrassment listening to speaker after speaker give discussions on subjects she couldn't understand.  Loving her as I do, I couldn't subject her to that kind of experience so late in her life.  "Damn It!  What do you mean you forgot to bring me my Diet Coke?"  

Just remember, you neutered me first!
 I can always return the favor!

3)  My cats threatened me with castration should I leave them for a week.  As I am the one to feed them nightly, they know how important I am to their lives.  To lose me to a possible plane crash or even a BlogHer/Him maniac with a loaded keyboard, would be a terrible loss for them to endure. 

 So, instead of taking a chance, they both approached me last week and made me a promise.  "No matter what you would gain by going, it won't compare to what you'd lose if you don't stay home."  As they've been sharpening their claws and staring at my crotch daily, I've followed their lead and recognized the importance of keeping a family together.  Besides, the real jewels are always kept at home, right?

4)  My guns need cleaning.  Who knows when the country will break out in a civil war, or wild gangs will run wild in the streets.  A person has got to be able to be prepared for the extremes.  So, every now and then I have to take out all my guns and give them a thorough cleaning, just in case the drones and helicopters start flying overhead, again.  Besides, the medicinal crops in the hydroponic grow units in the basement are almost ready to harvest.  A man's gotta protect his investments!

Hope you're not eating right now!
No, they're not mine ... but close!

5)  I have to cut my toenails.  Occasionally, it comes down to either purchasing new socks or cutting toenails.  Having gone a little too long between cuttings, the purchasing of new socks has depleted the funds that were being earmarked for air fare, hotel, and food expenses.  So, I've sharpened the axes, fine tuned the steel files, and rented a jackhammer to attack the masses of toe jam and protein that have built up over the past decade.  It's a rough job, but someone's got to do it.

6)  My wife wants me home to protect her from her own emotions during America's Got Talent.  Howie, Howard, Heidi & Mel are just too much for her to handle by herself as they crush the dreams of contestants vying for the coveted spot of Finalist.  Her tears, smiles, tension filled moments, and relief during the voting moments will have to be supervised by me to protect the neighbors from harm. (Especially with the clean guns now fully ready for action in the house.)

Nothin' like enjoying the wide open spaces!!!

7)  The outhouse needs cleaning.  Damn neighbors had a party the other night and I let three of their family members sleep in it to get outta the rain.  Hell, even made it tough to take a morning leak the next day when I was gettin' ready for work. Damn people didn't clean up after themselves at all, and even let their dogs in to use the facilities.  Unfortunately, none were trained to hit the holes.  Now, every time the wife or I have to go do as nature demands, we're steppin' in dog sh*t.  I'd hoped it would get hard and be easy to sweep out if I let it go a couple of days.  Gonna have to check it out soon and make sure the wife isn't overcome by the smell in the heat of the day.

8)   I have a driving need to watch Titanic for the 30th time.  There's something about seeing a long ship plug deeply and sink straight into a big ocean, right after watching a nude scene with a beautiful woman wearing a solitary jewel, that's kind of sensual.  Now that it's on my mind, I feel a stirring in my soul, as well as my underwear.  "Got the outhouse clean yet, honey?"

9)  I have too many blogs to write!  It's a shame when you can't do something because you're busy doing the same thing that you could be learning about.  But, isn't learning doing?  If you're not doing, then why worry about learning?  But, if you're not learning, could your doing be wrong?  How could doing be wrong if you're learning by doing?  (God, I'm getting dizzy)  I don't because I did, but I don't because I do!  (Scary ...that almost makes sense even to me, lol.)

10)  And, the final reason I'm not going this week is that my belly button needs vacuuming.  There's nothing like a Hoover roaring in the evening as the hose attaches itself to your belly button and draws out the masses of lint that have accumulated over the decades.  You stand there, enjoying the light of day, engrossed in the ecstasy, feeling the vibration of the Hoover suck free the globs of oil soaked threads from your stomach  crater.  And, when you're done, it is truly amazing how many others do the same as soon as they, too, finish washing their cars!

So, if I could go to BlogHer, these would be the reasons that I couldn't go.  And, if BlogHer is strictly for the female gender, then none of these reasons would matter unless I had a sex change operation.  This could also limit my available funding, so I probably wouldn't be able to attend anyway.  Then, I'd be a male in a female body.

Hmmmm, sounds like a winning blog to me!!!

I could entitle it, "A Man In She!"

No, that sounds too much like porn.

Okay, how about, "Rich is Inside"?

No, still porn sounding.

I know, "That's Life ... Sometimes!!!"

(Rich, you shameless self promoting fool! You're a genius!)

Oh, and before I forget ... here's reason eleven!!!!

I have to celebrate 
the birth of the new PRINCE!!!!!!!

Hail to the Prince!
Long Live the Queen!